


After All These Years

by littlebell_captain



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Breaking Cannon, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 15:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebell_captain/pseuds/littlebell_captain
Summary: This fanfiction begins soon after the season 7 finale of the original series. This author does not recognize the new episodes in the revival as cannon. This author also is very emotional about the 2020 campaign so writing the 2008 campaign is going to be a lot for her to handle and she thanks you for your consideration in advance.





	After All These Years

Rory collapses onto her hotel bed with a groan. The campaign event ended around eleven but the late night drive across state lines to their next destination took them across the midnight clock tick and into the next day. Rory was beyond exhausted, having been on her feet and in uncomfortable shoes all day long, listening intensively, writing furiously, and speed walking everywhere she went as the clock seemed to tick faster and faster with every passing second. 

Being on the campaign trail was exhilarating, even a year out from the Democratic Convention. Media coverage of campaigns always spike before the debates, so the articles had to get churned out at a higher rate than ever as the first one is just a week away. They had done Goffstown, New Hampshire at Saint Anselm College earlier that month and were now preparing for Howard University. Back to DC, where Rory hasn't been since she and Paris were there summer before senior year.

The drive was long. They always are. Tour buses were the campaign travel norm and Rory would be lying if she claimed to drink any less than three cups of coffee a day to keep up with the intensity of her new job.

Back in Connecticut, in her mansion of a childhood house, Paris is back in the turmoil of family drama, desperate for the next school year, longing to be on Harvard grounds, walking those paths winding through the greener lawns. It's where she should have been for these last four years but the Devil had other plans.

She collapses onto her bed after witnessing yet another fight between her parents. Wasn't the point of divorce to NOT have to go through this anymore?

She considers calling Doyle, but did not particularly want to talk to him. They haven't seen each other in weeks and the strange part was: She doesn't miss him nearly as much as she thought she would. And next year, when she goes to Harvard, and he's working in New York, he will be hundreds of miles away. And she would be okay with that. That revelation is a curious one, odd, but Paris doesn't quite know what to feel about it. 

So, she calls Rory.

"Hello?" A sleepy voice says on the other end.

"Rory?"

"Paris?"

"Are you awake?"

"I am now," her voice clears up a little. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"Paris," Rory says firmly. A shuffle echoes through the phone. "It's almost one in the morning."

"My parents are fighting," Paris admits.

"At one in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Why are they in the same house at one in the morning?"

"Great question. I would tell you, if I knew."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I am fine. I just hate them and can't wait to not be here anymore."

"Is that the only thing that's wrong?" Rory asks softly, sighing into her pillow in the lamp-lit hotel room. Her roommates had gone out to a party. Where they get their energy from, Rory wouldn't know.

"Doyle," Paris offers.

"Do you miss him?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," Paris says, more firmly this time. The conviction in her voice is piercing. "And that's what worries me. I haven't seen him since we graduated because he's been in New York, and I barely miss him. I reply to his occasional texts but I don't initiate the conversations. I pick up his calls but they don't last very long before he has to go again, and I am fine with it. Rory, what's wrong with me?"

The Gilmore ponders for a moment, doe eyes gazing into the distance. "Maybe you're falling out of love with him."

"Maybe."

"Has this been on your mind a lot?" Rory asks kindly. 

"No. It just occurred to me, listening to my parents fight, hoping to God I don't end up like them."

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"You're Paris Geller. Your career is your soulmate, one true love, other half. You're going to do great things and I'll be damned if you let a man and marriage problems stand in your way and take over your life."

Paris smiles for the first time all day. "Thanks. Thanks for picking up."

"I am always here for you, even at one am," Rory smiles.

Paris laughs lightly. 

"Just," Rory begins, pauses, and begins again, "Whatever happens, don't let your parents be everything. They're not you and you're not them. Their life path isn't yours. And you don't even need to go to Columbia to spite your mother. You just have to keep being the fiery force of nature you've always been. As long as you do that, your life will never derail so much that your romantic endeavors becomes your whole life, and if a relationship ends, you will always have yourself and your future to return to. And that matters."

"I miss you" was all Paris could say in response.

"I miss you, too. I miss the craziness of our Yale years."

"Yeah," Paris agrees softly, trailing off. "Nothing is ever going to be the same from here on, huh?"

"No, they're not. But maybe that's for the best."

"How are you? How is the campaign?" Paris asks.

Rory begins rambling about her work and her candidate, suddenly wide awake and bubbling with excitement. Paris smiles. At least one of them is where she belongs.

"How are you feeling about Logan?" Paris asks when Rory finishes her tales.

"Good? Surprisingly?" Rory answers with questions.

"That's good to hear. You're healing."

"Yeah, I am."

"Have you looked back since and wondered if you should have said yes?"

"Kind of? I wonder what that life would have been like, but every single time, the conclusion is that maybe it would have been beautiful and I would have been happy, at least for a while, but I don't want it. I want so much more than white picket fences and French riviera views. I want to live, and work, and learn, and create. I want to figure out who I am and why before I settle down and make my roots somewhere. I want to be sure of myself first."

"I think you got it right," Paris reassures her friend.

"Me too. This campaign has meant everything. Seeing Senator Obama campaign and give his speeches feels like watching something right out of history. I can't quite explain it or really understand why but I feel like I am part of something so much greater. Does that make sense?"

"I think it's the agency you're putting into your work, your career, and your life."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Rory pauses, "Paris, it feels so good to feel so driven by purpose."

"I know," Paris smiles.

"Right, how could I forget? Paris Geller is the Queen of Ambition."

Paris laughs, and changes the subject back to Rory. "Do you miss your mom?"

"Yes. So," Rory stops dead.

"What?" Paris asks, her voice laced with worry.

"I forgot to call her today."

"There is always tomorrow."

"There is always tomorrow," Rory affirms. 

"Goodnight, Rory."

"Goodnight, Paris."


End file.
